


mistletoe

by owlinaminor



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, M/M, Shenanigans, background matsuhana - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 11:12:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5537729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlinaminor/pseuds/owlinaminor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tooru remembers this.  He definitely remembers this.  It was in their English textbook once - there was some weird short story about Christmas that they had to translate, with this girl who had a crush on this guy, and she thought he liked her too but was too afraid to do anything about it, so she put up mistletoe at the Christmas party, and …</p><p>“You kiss people under it!” Hanamaki exclaims.</p><p>Right.  She kissed him.  Mistletoe is for kissing.</p><p>Tooru suddenly has a bad feeling about this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on [tumblr](http://officialyachihitoka.tumblr.com/post/135939965915/mistletoe) as a christmas present for the hq!! girls' defense squad. because they're all ridiculous kids who love iwaoi, and i am a shameful enabling mom.
> 
> edited by [becky](http://dicaeopolis.tumblr.com/), who keeps putting up with my self-indulgent fic writing for some reason. (that's a lie, I know the reason. it has to do with hetalia.)
> 
> anyway, enjoy. ✌

“Oh, my God.  Oikawa.”

“What?”  Tooru whirls around to find himself practically nose-to-nose with Hanamaki, grinning like an old man who’s had five too many beers - which is, actually, not too far from the truth.  Startled by the sudden closeness (Tooru never thought he’d find out what his teammate’s breath smelled like), Tooru takes a step back, nearly spilling his drink in the process.

“ _Oikawa_ ,” Hanamaki repeats.  As though Tooru should know exactly what he’s talking about.  (For the record: he doesn’t.)

“ _What?_ ”

“ _Look_.”  Hanamaki points across the room.  Tooru follows his finger, past haphazardly strewn decorations and dangerously balanced piles of food supplies, to the doorway.  The doorway, where Hajime is currently standing, hands on hips, directing Kindaichi and Kunimi as they hang some kind of banner.  The team is having their annual holiday party at Hajime’s house this year, and as a result, he took charge of the decorations, claiming that he couldn’t have everyone fucking up and destroying his house.  Tooru thinks he looks kind-of cute - like a bride on her wedding day, insisting that everything be perfect.  (Not that he could ever say that to Hajime’s face.)

“Iwa-chan is over there,” Tooru says, reminding himself that he’s supposed to be having a conversation with Hanamaki, not ogling his boyfriend.

Hanamaki sighs melodramatically, shaking his head.  "Yeah, and what _else_?“

Tooru looks around Hajime, searching for anything special - he’s not wearing a uniform, but none of them are.  Most of the decorations haven’t been hung yet.  There are no funny hats in the vicinity (although that is a promising thought, Hajime in a funny hat - Tooru holds onto it for later).

He shrugs.  "I don’t know.”

“You’re so _dense_ ,” Hanamaki says, with an air of perfected disdain.  "I can’t believe you’re the captain.  Look above his head.“

Tooru does.  There’s something green tacked to the doorway - dark green and spiky.  Kind-of like Hajime’s hair.  But that’s ridiculous, Tooru tells himself - it isn’t hair, it’s … a plant?  A foreign plant, maybe?  But why would a foreign plant be hanging over the doorway in Hajime’s house -

 _Oh_.  Tooru’s mouth falls open.

"You get it.”  Hanamaki smirks, triumphant.  "You know what it is, right?“

"It’s, um …” Tooru struggles to remember the word.  "Mistletoe?“

"Exactly.  And do you know what you do with mistletoe?”

Tooru remembers this.  He definitely remembers this.  It was in their English textbook once - there was some weird short story about Christmas that they had to translate, with this girl who had a crush on this guy, and she thought he liked her too but was too afraid to do anything about it, so she put up mistletoe at the Christmas party, and …

“You kiss people under it!” Hanamaki exclaims.

Right.  She kissed him.  Mistletoe is for kissing.

Tooru suddenly has a bad feeling about this.

Hanamaki nudges him in the shoulder, still smirking ridiculously - like some kind of bad anime villain.  "So, you should go get your Iwa-chan, if you know what I mean …“

"No - no way!” Tooru splutters.  His face is definitely going red - and this _cannot_ be allowed to happen, he has a very cool reputation with his kouhais and he fully intends to keep it that way - but, try as he might, he can’t control the pigment shift in his cheeks.  Luckily, nobody else seems to have noticed yet.

“We’ve been together for, like, two weeks!” Tooru exclaims, attempting to keep his voice down.  It comes out as something of a squeak.  "Barely!  We haven’t done anything in public - we haven’t even talked about -“

"Oh, come on, Oikawa,” a new voice says.  "Don’t be a wimp.“

It’s Matsukawa, coming up behind Hanamaki and slinging an arm around the shorter wing spiker.  The two assholes are in agreement on this, apparently.  Tooru wonders, not for the first time, why it’s so much easier for them to focus on a goal when they’re trying to make his life miserable than when they’re actually _playing_ .  In a _game_ .  When he really _needs_ them to focus.

"Yeah, Oikawa,” Hanamaki agrees.  "Don’t be a wimp.“

Tooru looks back over at Hajime - he’s reprimanding Mad Dog-chan, who apparently tried to eat one of the pastries the team bought for dessert before they were properly heated up.  (“You’ll get sick, you idiot!” he can be heard shouting.  “And then there won’t be enough for everyone else!”)  It’s sweet, Tooru thinks, how Hajime looks after everyone on the team.  He’s so responsible, and kind, and - Tooru is struck suddenly by the memory of Hajime wrapping an ace bandage around his bruised fingers, then bringing them up to his lips - Hajime shouts like gunfire and spikes like a hurricane, but he kisses soft and delicate, ivory and glass, the slow drip of candle wax as a flame burns steadily -

"Come on, you know you want to,” Matsukawa says.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Hanamaki chimes in.

“He could punch me!” Tooru exclaims.  Or worse - Hajime could push Tooru away, deny that they’re dating, say that they can’t be seen in public together any more … They haven’t been together long, but with every kiss stolen in the locker room after practice, every second of clasped hands on the way home, every smile he watches dawn on Hajime’s face with the knowledge that he put it there - he’s more and more sure that he doesn’t want to fuck this up.  That he _can’t_ fuck this up.

Hanamaki sighs, even more melodramatically than before, pulling Tooru out of his thoughts.  "You’ve over-thinking this, idiot,“ he says.

"Yeah,” Matsukawa agrees.  "Just the other day, actually, Iwaizumi was telling me that he wished you guys could come out to the team somehow, but he didn’t want to bring it up to you because he wasn’t sure you were ready.“

Tooru spins, quick as one of his unhittable serves, to stare down his friend.  "Really?”

“Yeah.  Really,” Matsukawa says.  Tooru scans his friend’s face, searching for hints that he might be anything less than serious, but finds only sincerity.  “He seemed kind-of scared, actually.”

Scared?  Hajime?  Of what Tooru might do if he talked to him about coming out to the team?  That’s the most ridiculous thing Tooru has ever heard.  He wants to tell the whole world they’re dating - wants to shout it from the rooftops, scrawl it in the skies, inscribe their uniforms with _Property of Oikawa_ and _Property of Iwaizumi_.  He’s admitted, in the dead of night when hiding the truth is impossible, that he’s more sure about this relationship with Hajime than he’s ever been about anything before in his life.

And before he quite realizes what he’s doing, Tooru’s feet are taking him across the room.  He counts one long stride, two, three, four - and then he’s facing Hajime.  Hajime’s eyes widen, his mouth opens, he starts to ask, or shout, or demand - but Tooru doesn’t hear him.

All Tooru hears is the rush of blood in his ears as he reaches up, cups Hajime’s face in his hands, and kisses him firmly on the mouth.

A moment passes.  Time stops.  Silence falls, heavy and tangible, like a stone, or a breaking heart.

‘And then Hajime pulls away, spluttering - “What the fuck was that for, Shittykawa?”

“I, um.”  Tooru had good reasons, he swears, but he doesn’t know how to put them into words.  He never was very good at literature.  "Mistletoe?“

"Mistletoe?” Hajime repeats.

Tooru points above their heads, helplessly.  He can feel the redness spreading up his neck - any hopes of keeping his cool reputation he might’ve once had are now completely out the window, in the next town, probably getting spiked by overenthusiastic Karasuno first-years.

Hajime starts to laugh.

And, okay, Tooru is terrified - he doesn’t know what’s going on, and he hates that more than scary movies or rollercoasters or facing Ushiwaka in a match - but Hajime is laughing.  Hajime is laughing, a real, open-mouthed laugh like thunder on the mountainside, so everything must be okay.

“That’s - that’s evergreen, you dumbass,” Hajime finally says.  He wipes at his eyes, still chuckling slighty - and Tooru is briefly pushed out to sea on a wave of ridiculous affection before he becomes vaguely conscious of the rest of the team, staring at their ace as though he just grew a second head.  "Why the fuck did you think it was mistletoe?“

"Hanamaki and Matsukawa said -”  Wait.  Where _are_ Hanamaki and Matsukawa?  Tooru looks back at the spot where they were all standing before - the two jokers appear to have vanished into thin air.  God _damn_ it.

“And you believed them?” Hajime asks.  "Come on.  I thought even _you_ were smarter than that.“

"I … I should’ve been,” Tooru admits sheepishly.  He looks pointedly at the wood floor - smooth and shiny, Hajime’s parents must’ve made him clean it before everyone came over.  "I just - they said something about you being scared to make our relationship public, and -“

Before Tooru can finish his sentence, Hajime catches his chin in his hands, tilts it up, and presses a quick kiss to his lips.

"I’m not scared of anything, Trashykawa” he says.  "Whatever you’re ready for, I’m ready for.  Just say the word.  Now,“ he adds, grinning wickedly in a way that sends heat straight to the bottom of Tooru’s stomach, "let’s get those bastards.  Matsukawa!  Hanamaki!  You better not be making out in those bushes again, my neighbor is still traumatized from last time!”

Hajime strides off, shouting threats as though this is just another day at practice - as though he hasn’t just ripped Tooru’s heart straight out his chest, taken it apart, and then returned it somehow bigger and fuller than before.  Tooru watches his boyfriend - his impossible, generous, wonderful boyfriend - go for a second, then follows.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki are about to get _wrecked_.

**Author's Note:**

> rip in pieces oikawa tooru
> 
> (we all know who's really getting wrecked tonight and it's not matsukawa _or_ hanamaki)


End file.
